


I Know It Might Be Wrong, But-

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set the morning after “The Well.” Skye is obviously going to give Ward a hard time about the whole having sex with Agent May thing. Obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know It Might Be Wrong, But-

What’s especially insulting about this whole thing is that Ward probably thinks that she’d be jealous.  Which probably makes sense in his tiny, male brain, but Skye is an evolved, independent woman and this only means one thing: the greatest blackmail of all time.  She doesn’t blame Ward for getting into bed with May; Skye would, if the offer was there, and if they didn’t have this weird mother-daughter connection.  Actually, May was kind of a mother figure to everyone, but hey, Oedipus Complex, right?  Whatever.  That was an issue for Ward when he met Sigmund Freud in the afterlife.  Skye’s got plans to make.

 

Skye doesn’t want to do anything too over the top-so a “congrats on the sex” cake is probably out.  Plus, she doesn’t really know if there are any bakeries open in Ireland at 3 am, which is a shame.  She could majorly go for a muffin right now.  Would a congratulatory muffin basket also be too much?  Probably.  Does it count if she eats all the muffins and then just gives Ward the basket?  No, that wouldn’t make any sense.  It needs to be funnier, anyway.  Something that lets Ward know that she knows, that she isn’t jealous, and that she’s proud of him for actually getting laid for probably the fifth time in his life.

 

May is probably a beast between the sheets, though.  Like, she’s definitely got some crazy leg moves going on there.  Oh my god, don’t picture them having sex!  That is so not what Skye is supposed to be focusing on, here.

 

Okay.  How to make Ward all red in the face without making him hate her.  Easier said than done, considering that he’d just spent the past day in a perpetual state of rage-quit.  But what better way to ease him back into their routine than treating the whole situation like it was totally normal?  May was screwing Ward.  Totally normal.

 

It needed to be subtle.  Like sending him a text and asking him how his night was going.  And then maybe adding a winky face?  No.  It should be done in person.  But the phone idea was solid.  Maybe something involving a ringtone?  That could be fun.  Middle of sparring, phone rings, blasting the most inappropriate song possible. That would totally work!  Simple, yet completely awkward for one Agent Grant Ward.  She really was a genius.  Not to brag, or anything.

 

“So you need one of us,” Simmons says, sleep still lingering under her eyes and in her voice, “to call you at 8 am?  And that’s it?”  It’s seven thirty sharp, and it’s still pretty dark in Dublin.  Skye can make out Fitz’s mop of blond hair under a thick comforter, and while it’s obvious that Simmons and Fitz shared a bed last night, Skye’s pretty sure the farthest they went was cuddling until they fell asleep.  Which is adorable to picture, even with a grumpy little Simmons standing in the doorway.

“It’ll be super easy,” Skye says, shooting Simmons a grin. “I’ve programmed my phone to ring for the whole song.”  Simmons wearily tilts her head.

“Won’t Ward be a little peeved if your phone goes off during practice?”  Skye waves her hand, letting out a snort of laughter that sounds a bit more forced than it should.

“It’s to cheer him up, actually.  He’s going to think it’s funny.”  Simmons doesn’t look convinced.  Skye places her hands on Simmon’s shoulders.  “Pretty please?”  Simmons nods, if only to get Skye out of the doorway.  Skye clasps her hands together, grinning.

“You’re the best!” Skye says, already heading down the hallway.  “Remember, eight am!”  Simmons gives Skye a lazy wave before shutting the door.

 

Ward is somehow already in the practice space before Skye, which is only a little surprising, considering that he was up having sex at all hours of the morning.  Though May probably kicked him out once she’d finished with him.  Skye makes the mistake of laughing to herself.

“Something funny?” Ward asks, and Skye goes wide eyed.

“I just,” she says, trying to smile, “I figured you’d be late?”  Ward’s brow creases.

“I’m never late,” he says, already holding the punching bag for her.

“Yeah, but, how late did we meet up at that bar?  Two am?”  Skye approaches the bag, meeting Ward’s eyes.  “And I find it hard to believe that you fell asleep right after that,” Skye continues, taking her first swing, “especially with everything that was on your mind.  That’s still on your mind, I guess.”  Another swing.

“Are you trying to get me to talk?” He asks.  She shrugs her shoulders, tilting her head a few times to stretch her shoulders.

“I dunno, Ward,” she asks, “Is there something you want to talk to me about?  Anything you want to get off your chest?” She lets a smirk tug at the corner of her mouth.  Ward purses his lips in response.

“No more than last night,” he replies, brow furrowed.  She can tell her smirk is starting to get to him-so she pulls back her lips into a full grin.

“Last night,” Skye mock sighs, “what a night it was.”  Ward tightens his grip on the punching bag.

“If there’s something you’re trying to tell me-” he starts,

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Skye interjects, “any deep, dark secrets you want to get off your chest?”  He draws his lips into a line.

“What are you trying to get me to say?” he demands, more frustrated than anything else.  Skye places her hands on the punching bag, leaning forward.

“Maybe.  You know, something along the lines of: I fucked Melinda Ma-”

 

Simmons is right on time.  And “Stacy’s Mom,” is the perfect song choice, judging by the way Ward is looking at Skye with complete exasperation.

“Seriously?” he says.  She lets her phone keep going.

“What, you don’t like this song?” she says, stepping back from the punching bag.  “You never jammed out to this back in the day?”  She does this ridiculous little motion with her shoulders, the start of her little dance.

“Were you following me last night?” Ward asks.  Skye has added a little shimmy to her dancing, which doesn’t really fit the tempo but is more endearing than Ward wants to let on.

“Oh, you know,” Skye says, “I was getting off the elevator at the same time you went into May’s room.  How was it, by the way?”

“Stop dancing,” Ward demands.  Skye makes a point of grinning at him and she does the opposite of that, hair bouncing around her.  “I’m serious.”  Skye laughs at him, at the very notion that he has any right to be serious right now.

“Come on.  How long were you in there?  Did she rock your world?”  Ward’s jaw tightens.  The song is still blaring, and he looks like he might actually be sick.

“We are not having this discussion,” Ward says, “this is completely inappropriate.”

“Oh come on,” Skye replies, “I totally would’ve told you about Miles, if you’d asked!”  That actually makes Ward’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, as if Skye saying “Miles” has violated some kind of sacred oath.

“But I didn’t ask,” he says, through gritted teeth, “because it’s not my place to know about your sex life!”

“Ugh, fine,” Skye says, finally hitting the “ignore” button on her phone.  “You know, sex is supposed to make you less uptight.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Ward replies.  Skye shrugs.

“I was just trying to get you to laugh a little,” she twists a lock of her hair around her finger, “you know, since you could’ve used some laughter yesterday.”

“I’m coming out of a rage fueled haze,” Ward continues, still baffled, “and you thought it would be a good idea to bring up my sex life?”  This makes her smile a little tense, as if she’s coming to some sort of sudden realization.

“Um...yes?” She says.  “I mean, I just wanted you to know that I’m not jealous.”  For the first time all morning, Ward smirks back at her.

“I didn’t think you were,” he replies, “until just now, that is.”  He leans on the punching bag, and while Skye feels mildly victorious that he’s actually grinning at her, she can’t help but think she’s jumped the gun.

“Oh bullshit,” she says, before she can think of another, more clever reply.  “You probably think that Simmons would be jealous, too.  Grant Ward, the guy that everyone wants to bang.  That’s you.  Definitely.”  She’s rambling, her sarcasm coming out more silly than actually funny.  Though Ward seems amused.

“I doubt that Simmons wants me,” Ward says, “but thanks for the compliment.”  He’s actually smiling at her.

“Wasn’t a compliment,” Skye retorts, “more like a scathing critique of the male ego.”

“Right.”  A silence lingers between them for a moment, and Skye kind of wishes that Simmons would give her another call-but no luck.  She’s going to have to ad-lib from here.

“So did May top?” Skye asks.  Ward’s smile falls.  “I mean, she seems like she’s a top.”

“No,” Ward replies.

“No, she didn’t top, or no, we’re not discussing this?” Skye says.

“The latter,” Ward replies.

“So she did top!” Skye exclaims, at the same moment that Ward releases the punching bag.

“Skye,” he warns, “We’re not doing this.” She holds the punching bag still.  Ward’s watching her carefully, and she realizes that he’s been looking at her like that all morning.

“I’m trying to let you know I’m happy for you,” Skye says, “that you got it out.  The anger, I mean.”  She’s dropped her voice to a softer whisper.  And you know what?  She means it.

“You could’ve just said that,” Ward replies.  He’s not frowning quite so deeply anymore.

“This was more fun,” Skye says, pulling out her phone.  She grins at him, the moment gone.  “Wanna hear the song again?”

“No!” Ward says, reaching for her phone.  Skye flits back, waving her phone around.  She hits play, letting the song filter through the practice space once more.

“Dance party?” she asks, resuming her ridiculous dance from early.  Ward actually snickers at her.

“Not a chance.”   



End file.
